


Star-Crossed Lovers

by smallburrito (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/M, I swear this is the only straight thing I'll ever post here, got full marks, wrote this as a school project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7864939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/smallburrito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic I wrote for a school assignment back in 2014. Romeo and Juliet reimagined in a Hogwarts AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Two houses, both alike in dignity,  
> In Hogwarts School (where we shall lay our scene),  
> From ancient grudge break to new mutiny  
> Where student blood makes student hands unclean  
> From forth the fatal loins of these two foes  
> A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life  
> Whose misadventured piteous overthrows  
> Do with their death bury their cohorts’ strife.  
> The fearful passage of their death-marked love,  
> And the continuance of their houses’ rage  
> Which but these students’ end nought could remove  
> Shall in the following pages be explained.  
> If you, the reader, with careful eyes attend  
> What here shall miss, this tale shall strive to mend.

The grey clouds surrounding the towers of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were spitting a steady, somewhat depressing stream of raindrops as two first-year Slytherin students tramped across the muddy grounds to their next class. 

 

“I hate this weather,” grumbled the shorter of the two.

 

“Whether you hate it or not, the rain won’t stop, Sam,” said the other, a lanky boy with as many freckles on his face as hairs on his head. “Stop being such a wuss about it.”

 

“I’m not a wuss, I can fight when I want to, Greg,” snapped Sam.

 

“Mate,” said Greg, “you never want to fight anyone. You’re weak.”

 

“I’d happily fight any Gryffindor. Bunch of stuck up jerks, they are. I’d thrust them to the wall, then pull out my weapon and –"

 

Sam’s ranting was interrupted by the appearance of a pair of Gryffindor students heading the other way. One had blonde hair and was a little on the pudgy side, the other had dreadlocks and an abnormally large nose. These two were also both first-years.

 

“Look, there’s a couple right there. Take them on; I’ve got your back.” Greg suggested.

 

Sam accepted his friend’s challenge, walked up to the red-and-yellow-clad newcomers and made an obscene hand gesture at them.

 

“Are you giving us the finger?” asked one of the Gryffindors accusingly.

 

“Are the rules on our side if I say yes?” Sam whispered to Greg. Greg told him that they weren’t.

 

“Well,” said Sam, turning back to the Gryffindors, “I’m sticking my finger up, but not at you.”

 

“Do you want to fight, mate?” suggested Greg.

 

“Fight? Of course not,” said the large-nosed student, waving his hand dismissively.

 

“Come on, be a man and fight him,” insisted Sam, drawing his wand from his pocket.

 

Greg and the two Gryffindors did the same, and all of a sudden they began madly casting hexes at each other. 

 

“Stop, stop! There’s no reason to be fighting!” yelled a new voice, causing the duellers to lower their wands and look to see where it had come from. It had stopped raining, and a sixth-year Gryffindor student was running towards them with his arms up, telling them to stop. 

 

“You’re not going to join the fight?” asked a drawling voice from behind. Unseen, a Slytherin also from the sixth year had walked up behind them and was now mocking the peacekeeping Gryffindor. 

 

“I was just keeping the peace, Tybalt,” said the Gryffindor coldly. “Not that you care though, do you?”

 

“You’re right there, Benvolio. I hate the word, as I hate hell, all Gryffindors and you,” he pointed at Benvolio as he said this last word, and Benvolio shrunk back.

 

“Put your wand away, and let’s be civil about this.” stuttered Benvolio. “Violence is not the answer.”

 

“Coward,” snarled Tybalt, casting an unpleasant spell on Benvolio so that his head swelled to the size of a pumpkin. Struggling to hold up his growing head, Benvolio retaliated with a curse which set Tybalt’s robes on fire. The younger students redrew their wands and joined the fray.

 

“PUT DOWN YOUR WANDS!” boomed the authoritative, magically amplified voice of the Headmaster himself. “I will not have such foolish quarrels in my school!” The quarrellers froze, lowering both their wands and their heads in shame. The Headmaster pulled out his own, which he used to extinguish Tybalt and return Benvolio’s head to its regular size. From opposite directions came Capulet and Montague, head students of Slytherin and Gryffindor houses respectively. 

 

“What, is this a fight?” demanded Capulet. “If so, I’ll draw my wand and side with these young patriots of the glorious Slytherin House!” The two houses had been rivals since the founding of Hogwarts, a rivalry based supposedly on the feud between the houses’ founders themselves. The rivalry wasn’t usually a violent issue, more a war of insults than of injuries. However, Capulet had an obsession for ‘honouring his house’ and therefore took any possible opportunity to get into an argument with the Gryffindor students. When he became the head student of the house, he began preaching his hateful views to the younger students and causing fights to break out constantly around the school.

 

“I’ll take you on myself, Capulet you filthy troll!” threatened Montague.

 

“You shall do no such thing!” declared the Headmaster, putting a firm hand on the bloodthirsty boys’ shoulders so as to stop them attacking. “There is no reason to fight. Put away your weapons and make peace with each other just as the founders of your houses eventually did! Three times in the past month, students and staff have been seriously injured thanks to this petty grudge of yours. I suggest you tell your houses that any Gryffindors or Slytherins who are caught disturbing the peace again will be immediately expelled or, in the severest of cases, sent to Azkaban. Remember this warning!” And with that, he waved them off to class. 

 

* * *

 

“Montague is under the same orders as I am,” explained Capulet as he sat down in Potions class next to his Ravenclaw friend Paris. “It won’t be too hard for us to keep the peace, but for the younger students it could be a challenge.”

 

“I suppose,” pondered Paris, “But, back to our original topic, what do you think of my offer? Our house has the best reputation – if your sister was seen to be dating a Ravenclaw, perhaps Slytherin’s reputation could go up too.”

 

“I’ve told you before, Paris. She’s only thirteen. I’m not going to force her to go out with you, but if she gives her consent, then you have mine too. You know what? We’re having a big party in the Room of Requirement after the Quidditch match this evening. Why don’t you come along so you can observe other girls before making a final decision?”

 

Paris accepted Capulet’s offer, and Capulet then proceeded to write out a list of people who he would invite to the party. After class, he thrust the list, along with a stack of invitations, into the hands of a lost-looking first-year who happened to be walking past. He told the first-year to deliver the invitations to the people on the list. The first-year began to stutter an objection, but was cut off by Capulet telling him to go and get a move on. Unbeknownst to Capulet, the student he had chosen had been struck by an Illiteracy Spell the day before, and was therefore unable to read.

 

* * *

 

“Who started the fight, anyway?” Montague asked Benvolio as they headed to the Quidditch game that afternoon.

 

“I don’t know,” said Benvolio. “It was one of those bloody first-years, I’m sure of that much. I saw the four of them fighting, so I ran to make peace between them, but then that idiot Tybalt turned up and started insulting me, so I took him on. Then the Headmaster came and broke up the fight.”

 

“On a different note,” said Montague, “have you seen my brother Romeo around lately? I’m glad he wasn’t in the fight today.”

 

“I saw him this morning walking down by the forest,” replied Benvolio, “He seemed kind of depressed if you ask me. I was going to go and talk to him, but he ran off when he saw me. He’s been pretty antisocial recently, to be honest.”

 

“I was afraid so,” said Montague worriedly. “I’ve heard he’s been seen there often, feeling sorry for himself for who-knows-what. Then when the sun comes up, he just goes and shuts himself in the dormitory and sulks all day. Do you think, being one of his best friends, you could find out what he’s so upset about and tell his dear old brother what you learn?” 

 

Benvolio promised he would try to find out what was bothering Romeo and tell Montague about it. He needn’t have bothered though, because they ran into Romeo himself around the next corner. Montague left them, making some hasty excuse about having to go to detention.

 

“Hey Romeo,” said Benvolio cheerfully.

 

“Hey Benvolio,” said Romeo.

 

“Look, mate, I know something’s up,” Benvolio began, “You seem so sad lately, and a bit out of sorts if you ask me. What’s the problem? I’m your best mate, I’m sure I can help you out if you tell me what’s going on. What sadness lengthens your hours?”

 

“Not having that, which, having, makes them short.” stated Romeo matter-of-factly.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean? Enough with the cryptic messages.” snapped Benvolio.

 

“Love. That’s what I meant.”

 

“So you’re in love.”

 

“Not exactly…”

 

“You’re out of love then?”

 

“Both, really. I am out of her favour where I am in love.”

 

“You mean you love someone but she doesn’t love you back.

 

“Yes, that’s what I just said, is it not? Alas that love should be so cruel! This love feel I, that feel no love in this.”

 

“Enough with the poetic language already. Save it for this love of yours. Who is it, anyway?”

 

“I love a woman. Yet she seems immune to Cupid’s arrow – she feels no love for anybody, let alone for me. She has sworn that she will bear no children and live as a nun.”

 

“A nun? Aren’t nuns more of a Muggle thing? Even for them, it’s a bit of an outdated trend. Although, with a tongue like yours I’m not surprised you fell for someone so old-fashioned. Take my advice, and look at other girls. You’ll find someone eventually.”

 

“I doubt I will ever find anyone as perfect as her.” Their conversation broke off there, as a panic-stricken Slytherin first-year came hurtling around the corner and crashed into them, dropping the bundle of letters he was holding. 

 

“Do either of you know how to read?” he asked timidly, pausing between the words to catch his breath.

 

“Only if I know the language,” joked Romeo.

 

“Sorry to bother you then,” stuttered the first-year.

 

“No, come back. Of course I can read.” Romeo apologised. He read the letter out loud, reciting a string of names belonging to Professors, Slytherins, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs – but no Gryffindors. Romeo’s eyebrows went up when he read the name of his Ravenclaw friend Mercutio, and his voice went up when he read the name Rosaline. The young Slytherin thanked them and left.

 

“Who’s this Rosaline then?” asked Benvolio. “Is this that mysterious lady you mentioned?”

 

“Yes.” admitted Romeo. “She is the most beautiful woman in all of Hogwarts, the jewel of Hufflepuff house. She is prettier than the prettiest of swans.”

 

“Get over her.” said Benvolio exasperatedly. “You know what? Let’s go to Capulet’s big party tonight so you can compare her to the other girls. Believe me, after tonight you will see your swan as no more than a humble crow.”

 

“Fine, I’ll go, but only because Rosaline will be there.” decided Romeo, and they settled down to watch the Quidditch game. It was Gryffindor against Slytherin, so it was sure to be a heated match.

 

On the other side of the stadium, Capulet was having a casual conversation with his cousin Angelica, wondering where Juliet could be and what was taking her so long. Coincidentally, Juliet came rushing up the stairs that very moment, sitting down on the seat next to them. 

 

“Sorry I took so long,” gasped Juliet breathlessly. 

 

“Your brother was just talking about you,” said Angelica.

 

“Yes,” confirmed Capulet. “How old are you now, Jules? Fourteen, isn’t it?”

 

“Not quite,” Angelica spoke up before Juliet had a chance to answer. “It’s her birthday in two weeks. I remember her being born, I can tell her age to an hour. You can’t, yet you call yourself her brother –“

 

“Alright, alright, no need to get so worked up about it!” Capulet cut her off.

 

“I watched her grow up, while you lived preoccupied with your farcical notions of ‘bringing honour to your house’! I helped her on her journey through life; I hope to be there to help her find true love!”

 

“What a coincidence that love is just what I wanted to talk about with her today,” said Capulet amusedly. “Juliet, what would you say if I told you I know someone who is interested in dating you? Are you interested?”

 

“It is an honour that I dream not of,” Juliet replied simply.

 

“Ah, come on.” encouraged Capulet. “It’s not just anyone, either. Paris, the head student of Ravenclaw house, has had his eye on you for quite some time! His house has the best reputation, so if its head student was seen with a Slytherin, it could push up our social standing too.”

 

“If I like him, I suppose it could happen. But if I feel no attraction to this Paris, I will do no such thing.” Juliet reasoned.

 

“That’s great. He’ll be at the party after the match tonight. Make sure to be there so you can meet him!” insisted Capulet, before they stopped talking and turned their attention to the game, which Slytherin was winning eighty points to ten.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The final score was 250-40 to Slytherin, but Mercutio and Benvolio weren’t too disappointed, because they were going to go to Capulet’s party anyway. However, the loss of the Quidditch game had done nothing to lift Romeo’s spirits, so he was still wallowing in his own misery. 

 

“Please, don’t make me dance at the party,” begged Romeo. “You have dancing shoes with nimble soles, but tonight my soul is made of lead. I am staked to the ground and cannot move.”

 

“You call yourself a lover, borrow Cupid’s wings and soar above the clouds” suggested Mercutio mockingly.

 

“I am too sorely wounded by his arrows to soar with his light feathers. I sink under love’s heavy burden – it is too rough,” rebuked Romeo.

 

“If love is hurts you, hurt it back.” Mercutio said.

 

“I don’t know,” said Romeo, “It’s just… I feel like something is going to happen tonight. It’s like I can feel some black consequence hanging in the stars. I see it in my dreams, the events of tonight could result in my fate.”

 

“Don’t be a lunatic. You’ve got a head full of Nargles, and they’re messing with your dreams. Come on,” Mercutio grabbed Romeo by the arm, and he and Benvolio dragged Romeo along the corridor towards the party. 

 

When they entered the Room of Requirement, they were met with a wild party involving what was probably the whole of Slytherin house, as well as the odd Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Romeo and Benvolio were the only Gryffindors. Music was blaring from a stereo in the far corner, and people were dancing everywhere. Romeo looked around, careful to avoid the gaze of Capulet, who was deep in conversation with another student at the edge of the room, over near the food tables. As Romeo’s eyes wandered, they fell upon one attractive young woman in particular. His irises expanded, taking in her exquisite beauty. She had flowing brown hair which whipped flawlessly from side to side as she moved around the dance floor, as well as bright blue eyes with more sparkle than the brightest diamond. Unbeknownst to Romeo, this young lady was Capulet’s youngest sister Juliet.

 

“Who is that?” Romeo asked a passing house-elf, pointing to the woman with whom he had just become infatuated with.

 

“I know not, sir,” replied the elf in a high-pitched, almost fearful voice, before darting away so as not to have to answer another question.

 

“They were right,” said Romeo to himself. “In the shadow of this heavenly swan, Rosaline is even less than a crow.”

 

Meanwhile, although Capulet hadn’t seen Romeo, Tybalt had been watching him intently.

 

“A Gryffindor!” Tybalt whispered loathingly. “How dare that slave come here, to a party for Slytherin house!? I would have no qualms about killing the boy right now!” He drew his wand and began to advance toward Romeo. He was stopped, however, by Capulet asking what he was doing. Tybalt explained the situation, that a member of their rival house had somehow infiltrated their party. 

 

“Leave him be,” said Capulet sternly. “He’s not doing anything to hurt us, and you know what the Headmaster said about any more fighting between Slytherins and Gryffindors. Now go and enjoy yourself. Have some fun, instead of being so negative all the time.” Insulted, Tybalt stormed off.

 

* * *

 

Unaware of Tybalt’s murderous desires and Capulet’s intervention (which had probably saved Romeo’s life), Romeo had managed to strike up a conversation with Juliet, and was now dancing with her himself. He now knew her name, but was yet to make the connection with Capulet and the Slytherins. Whatever he had said to her, she must have fallen for him too, because within a few minutes they were kissing each other in a passionate embrace. Their romantic endeavour was, however, cut short when Angelica came up to speak to Juliet.

 

“Your brother wants a word with you,” she said, whisking Juliet away so she disappeared into the crowd on her way to find her brother Capulet.

 

“Who is her brother?” Romeo asked her. 

 

“God, mate. Her brother is head of Slytherin house. A good man, if a little hot-headed at times. They’re my cousins, and I say any man who ends up with Juliet is a lucky man indeed.” Angelica bid Romeo goodbye as she turned to find her cousins in the crowd.

 

“Is she a Slytherin? My life is my enemy’s debt!” he wailed, although there was nobody around to listen. “My one true love and she has to come from the one house with which we are feuding! Oh, fate is so cruel!” wailed Romeo before he turned and ran for the door. Upon seeing this, Benvolio and Mercutio ran after him. They looked along the corridor, but there was no sign of him anywhere. 

 

* * *

 

“Angelica,” Juliet asked as her cousin whisked her through the hordes of students to a quieter area at the back of the room. “Who was that gentleman?”

 

“His name,” said Angelica darkly, “is Romeo. He is the brother of Montague, head student of Gryffindor. His house is our greatest rival.”

 

“My only love sprung from my only hate!” Juliet cried. “I loved too early, yet learned his name too late! What a cruel act of love it is to me, that I must love a hated enemy. Oh, cruellest fate!” Juliet let her head fall into her hands as she mourned for her impossible love.

 

“Come on, the party’s over,” said Angelica, grabbing Juliet by the wrist and pulling her across the room and out the door, on their way to the Slytherin common room in the heart of the dungeons. 

 

* * *

 

“Romeo, where are you?” Benvolio’s voice echoed through the empty hallways as he searched for his best friend. There was no answer. The search for Romeo had led them down into the dungeons of Hogwarts Castle and, although they didn’t know it, they weren’t far from their enemies’ lair, the Slytherin common room.

 

“He’s probably run off to find Rosaline,” Mercutio suggested. “If so, I wouldn’t want to walk in on them, whatever they’re doing.” Neither he nor Benvolio had seen Romeo with Juliet at the party. They agreed that there was no point searching for Romeo if he did not wish to be found, and so they set off back to their respective house towers.

 

As soon as they left, Romeo emerged from the shadows. He had heard their entire conversation. 

 

“Easy for him to say,” Romeo muttered under his breath. “He’s never felt love in his entire life. Juliet is the love of my life. To me, she is the sun; the bringer of light and life. Her eyes are two of the fairest stars in all the skies.” There was a sudden movement, and Romeo withdrew back into the shadows as a panel in the wall slid open and Juliet stepped out. Romeo watched her intently, not daring to breathe for fear of being discovered.

 

“O Romeo, Romeo. Why must you be Romeo?” Juliet asked the air around her, not realising that the very person she was discussing was only metres away. “Why must you be a Gryffindor, and the brother of Montague at that? Deny your house and refuse your name. What is Gryffindor? It’s not hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face nor any other physical part belonging to a man. Oh why could you not have been another house, another name? What’s in a name, anyway? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, as would Romeo were he not called Romeo.”

 

Romeo spoke up. “I take you at your word. Call me nothing but love and I will be new baptised. Therefore, I never will be Romeo.”

 

Juliet turned in shock. “Who is this that hides in the darkness and hears my speech? Name yourself.”

 

“I don’t know how to name myself,” replied Romeo, “because my name is hateful to you. If I had it written down, I would tear it up.”

 

“Aren’t you Romeo, Gryffindor and brother of Montague?”

 

“Yes, but neither I shall be if either you dislike.”

 

“The students of my house will attack you if they find you, despite the Headmaster’s warning. You are in enemy territory, you are an easy target. This is a dangerous place to be, Romeo. I fear for your safety.”

 

“No amount of danger can hold back a love like ours. Our love is real and true and perfect.” Juliet was about to argue, but there was a noise behind her. They both went silent, and they could hear Juliet’s name being called by Angelica’s distant voice. Juliet planted a kiss on Romeo’s lips as a goodbye, and then yelled out to her cousin that she was coming. Romeo begged her not to leave yet.

 

“A more perfect match never has existed. We shall never be torn apart. Let us get married, and combine our two souls into one. Goodnight!” he said.

 

Angelica’s voice came again, closer this time. 

 

 “I’ll send you a messenger tomorrow morning, arranging a date and a time for the marriage,” whispered Juliet. “Goodnight!” And with that, she disappeared through the opening in the wall to see why her cousin required her presence so urgently. Romeo left to return to Gryffindor Tower, wishing that tomorrow morning would come sooner.

 


	3. Chapter 3

As the sun rose the next morning, John Lawrence, Hogwarts groundskeeper, strolled through the gardens picking an assortment of flowers and herbs, whistling as he worked. As he plucked the flowers from the ground, he thought about how one flower could contain both healing and poisonous properties, how in that one little plant there resided both life and death. He supposed that people were the same, comprising both good and evil within the same skin. Lawrence was quite a philosophical man, a good thinker and a problem-solver. It was because of this that he was seen as a kind of counsellor to the students, who would come to him to confide their problems, because he was a trustworthy man as well, and they knew he would never tell their secrets to a single soul.

 

Romeo, clueless about how he should treat his relationship with Juliet, had decided to take a stroll down to Lawrence that morning to receive his consolation. Romeo and Lawrence had had similar dealings before – Romeo had come to him earlier for advice on the Rosaline situation.

 

“Good morning, Lawrence!” said Romeo brightly as he reached the garden which Lawrence was currently tending.

 

Lawrence cried out in shock, caught by surprise at Romeo’s arrival. “You’re up early today,” the groundskeeper observed. “Either that, or you haven’t slept at all!”

 

“The latter is correct,” replied Romeo. “My night was sweeter than any rest could have made it.”

 

Lawrence’s look of amusement turned to one of dread. “Were you with Rosaline?” he asked.

 

“With Rosaline? No!” Romeo said. “I have forgotten that name and that name’s woe!”

 

“That’s good,” said Lawrence, breathing a sigh of relief. “But where have you been then?”

 

“Oh I’m afraid my heart’s true love is set, on a Slytherin – the sister of Capulet. Our love is truer than anything on the face of the earth. We will never fall for anyone else as long as we shall live. I beg you; combine us in marriage before the week is over!”

 

“Marriage!?” enquired Lawrence, his eyebrows raised so high that they disappeared into his hairline. “Merlin’s beard, Romeo! You’re sixteen, she’s thirteen – you’re both insane! I may have picked up the qualifications of a marriage celebrant at one point in my life, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to use them without discretion! However, I will accept this outrageous request of yours for one reason and one reason only: If a Gryffindor and a Slytherin were known to be so hopelessly in love that they decided to get married at this age, then maybe, just maybe, this farcical war between the houses would end once and for all. That is the only reason.”  

 

“Thank you so much!” said Romeo ecstatically. “I don’t have the words to explain how grateful I am about this!”

 

“I don’t, however, believe that this hasty approach is the best.” warned Lawrence darkly. “What happened to your love for Rosaline, whom you pined over for weeks on end? Sometimes the fastest way isn’t the best way. Slow and steady wins the race. Remember that, Romeo, and don’t come crying to me if you end up divorced before the end-of-year exams.”

 

Romeo, ignoring this final warning, ran up the path towards the castle whooping with happiness, and with a noticeable, slightly deranged-looking spring in his step.

 

* * *

 

“Where the bloody hell is Romeo?” asked Mercutio as he and Benvolio sat down at breakfast that morning. “He’s got an owl from Tybalt challenging him to a duel.”

 

“Romeo will accept the challenge, no doubt about that.” assured Benvolio.

 

“Anyone who can read can answer a letter,” Mercutio reasoned. “Poor old Romeo’s already dead anyway, blinded by the disease of love, stabbed with Cupid’s arrow. He’s got no chance against Tybalt.”

 

“Why?” asked Benvolio. “What’s so special about Tybalt?”

 

“He’s a good dueller, that Tybalt.” explained Mercutio. “His fighting style is like the posh accent of the combat world. He’s so proper, so disgustingly elegant with his spells and hexes. He’s so stuck up; he thinks he’s so much better than everyone else. And, to be brutally honest, he sort of is better than–“

 

“Look, here comes Romeo!” interrupted Benvolio, and he was right. They turned to see Romeo come almost skipping through the door, with an absolutely ridiculous smile plastered on his face, despite the dark circles under his eyes indicating that he hadn’t slept at all.

 

“Merlin’s beard!” exclaimed Mercutio. “This love of his for this Rosaline has driven him completely insane! Look at that face! He’s probably been up all night writing soppy love poems to her, that is, if he hasn’t spent the night with Rosaline herself!” They both sniggered at those last words, stopping as Romeo came over to join them.

 

“So, Romeo.” said Benvolio. “You gave us both the slip last night, didn’t you?”

 

“Good morning, but what are you talking about?” Romeo asked, confused.

 

“Shall you compare your Rosaline to a summer’s day?” asked Benvolio airily.

 

“Or shall she compare your performance last night to that of others?” snickered Mercutio. He and Benvolio burst out laughing.

 

Suddenly, Romeo spied Angelica making her way along the table toward them, pushing her rounded body with difficulty through the hordes of students scoffing down various toasts, eggs and pastries. 

 

“Watch out!” yelled Mercutio to the students whom Angelica was pushing out of the way, “Don’t get too close or you’ll be splashed by the whale!” This mockery of the Slytherin’s large size earned a fit of laughter from the students at the nearby tables.

 

 

“Could any of you gentlemen tell me where I could find a young man by the name of Romeo?” asked Angelica exasperatedly, putting a note of sarcasm on the word ‘gentlemen’.

 

“That would be me,” answered Romeo.

 

“Very well then, I need to talk to you alone,” she explained.

 

“Ooh,” said Mercutio curiously. “What does this whore want with Romeo?”

 

“That’s enough,” said Romeo, before following Juliet’s cousin out of the Great Hall and into a deserted classroom.

 

“Who was that smartass so full of indecent jokes?” Angelica asked.

 

“A gentleman,” said Romeo, “who loves to hear himself talk. He will say more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.”

 

“Look,” warned Angelica. “Juliet told me about your decision last night. I think that marriage at this age is absurd, but I’m not going to stand in your way. So you can see her again, the password to the common room is ‘Capulet’. Just let me warn you, if you break my cousin’s heart, I’ll break your neck.” On that cheerful note, Angelica turned and walked away, leaving Romeo alone with his thoughts.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Juliet was pacing impatiently up and down the length of the Slytherin dormitory, awaiting Angelica’s return. She theorised that people who were in love lived and moved so much faster than those who were not. Perhaps one day her cousin would experience love like hers, but that day would not be today. The door opened, and Angelica walked in, red-faced and frowning.

 

“What’s the news?” asked Juliet excitedly, running up to her cousin and grabbing her hands before spinning the two of them around in a dance of happiness. 

 

“Just wait a few minutes,” snapped Angelica. “Can’t you see that I am out of breath?”

 

“How can you be out of breath, when you have the breath to tell me that you are out of breath!?” Juliet asked exasperatedly. “Your excuse for not answering my question is, I assume, longer than the answer itself would be!”

 

“Okay, okay. Do you have a free period before lunch today?” Angelica enquired.

 

“Yes, I do.” replied Juliet.

 

“Then make your way to Lawrence’s cabin by the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where you will find a husband ready to make you a wife.”

 

Juliet simply beamed with excitement. She hugged her cousin so hard that poor Angelica had difficulty breathing, and had to kindly ask Juliet to let go. Juliet had never been a happier woman in all her thirteen (almost fourteen) years.

 

* * *

 

When Juliet’s free period arrived, she set off immediately for Lawrence’s cabin. Romeo, meanwhile, was already there, and having a friendly chat with Lawrence himself.

 

“Have the heavens smile down on this act of love, and spare us any consequential sorrows,” said Lawrence.

 

“Good, good, but let the sorrows come,” interrupted Romeo. “No sorrow in the world can counteract the feelings of pure joy that I experience when I see my love for only a short minute. Let love-devouring death do what he may. It is good enough for me that I am able to call the flawless Juliet my own.”

 

“Don’t speak too soon,” chided Lawrence forebodingly. “These violent delights have violent ends. Look, here comes your lady now.” Lawrence pointed to the window as he said this last part, and Romeo turned to see that Juliet was indeed making her way down through the gardens to join them. Lawrence opened the door for her and het her in. As soon as she entered the room, Romeo took hold of her and kissed her passionately on the lips. Juliet returned the kiss with equal passion.

 

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” said Lawrence. “Save it for the wedding! Now come with me, and we shall incorporate your two souls into one.” He pulled the lovers apart and led them into the room in which they were to be married.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Mercutio and Benvolio, meanwhile, were spending their free period under a tree on the other side of the grounds, trying to escape the blistering heat which the sun had been blaring down on the castle all day.

 

“Come on, Mercutio, let’s go inside.” suggested Benvolio. “It’s stupidly hot, and there are Slytherins about. If we run into any, there’s no way we’ll escape a fight.”

 

“You won’t,” said Mercutio. “You’ll fight with anyone about anything. You’ll argue with someone because they got one more or one less mark in an exam than you did; you’ll argue with someone for setting off fireworks, because they woke your owl who had been asleep in its cage. And yet you tell me not to argue?”

 

Benvolio would have begun an argument with Mercutio right there and then, but he was instead distracted by the arrival of Tybalt.

 

“Ah, gentlemen,” said Tybalt mockingly as he approached the Gryffindors. “I would like a word with one of you.” 

 

“A word?” asked Mercutio. “Why not make it a word and a fight.”

 

“I have no desire to fight you.” Tybalt sneered. “I only came to find Romeo. Do you know where he is?”

 

“No idea mate,” said Benvolio. “Look, I don’t want any trouble, so why don’t you forget about Romeo and just bugger off and go and annoy your slimy Slytherin friends?”

 

“Here comes that villain Romeo now,” said Tybalt as Romeo came into view at the end of the hallway. “I’ll deal with you some other time,” he pointed at Benvolio and Mercutio before walking purposefully towards Romeo.

 

“Romeo, you villain!” yelled Tybalt. “Did you not receive my owl? Come on, be a man and fight me!”

 

“Tybalt, I have no desire to fight. Let’s not resort to violence today. Let us make peace instead.”

 

Mercutio was stunned by Romeo’s submission. “You’re not going to take up the offer to duel?” he asked, surprised. “What happened to your honour and patriotism for your house? Tybalt, if Romeo is in such a silly mood, I shall take up your offer instead!” Mercutio drew his wand. Tybalt agreed to the challenge and followed suit.

 

“Mercutio!” begged Romeo. “Put your wand away! Violence is not the answer!”

 

The duellers ignored him, and proceeded to cast their first spells upon each other. Mercutio began with a simple Disarming Charm, but Tybalt was undeterred. He retaliated with a spell which caused Mercutio’s legs to begin dancing uncontrollably. Mercutio directed another hex at Tybalt, this one causing the Slytherin to cough up wave after wave of slugs. Romeo tried to get between them to stop the fight. He attempted to hold their arms down with his, but, between mouthfuls of slugs, Tybalt managed to get out one more curse, transfiguring the unfortunate Mercutio into a mouse. Tybalt then pulled himself away from Romeo and attempted to run away. However, he was caught by Benvolio, who got him into a headlock and held him there until Romeo decided what to do next.

 

“A plague! That’s what you are!” came a squeaky voice. Romeo, Benvolio and Tybalt looked down to see mouse-Mercutio speaking up to them and making dramatic motions with his tiny little mouse-hands. “A plague on both your houses! Now get me to a teacher to turn me back!” Romeo went to pick up Mercutio to take him to get help, but, alas, an owl swooped swiftly down from the sky and caught the rodent in its talons. As the bird ascended, a high-pitched scream could be heard, followed by silence. A first-year student who had seen the entire fiasco ran as fast as his legs could carry him to alert the Headmaster.

 

Romeo, with a look of pure rage on his face, turned to Tybalt, still in Benvolio’s grip but no longer spewing slugs. “You murderer!” he yelled, his voice breaking, “You killed him, you steaming pile of dragon dung! I’m going to kill you for this! You’re going to hell, and I’m going to send you there right now!” His hands shaking with anger, Romeo drew his own wand, pointed it at Tybalt and voiced the cruellest curse known to wizardkind. There was a bang and a blinding flash of green light, which could be seen and heard all over the school, and Tybalt’s limp body fell heavily from Benvolio’s arms. Seeing what he had done, Romeo turned and ran for Lawrence’s cabin and the Forbidden Forest.

 

No sooner had Romeo left than the entirety of the Hogwarts staff and students came spilling out into the courtyard to see what had happened.

 

“Who killed Mercutio?” demanded the Headmaster. “Where did he go!?”

 

“There lays the murderer, now a murder victim himself,” Benvolio explained with a shaky voice, pointing at Tybalt’s lifeless carcass splayed upon the cobblestones at an unnatural angle.

 

“Who started this fight?” the Headmaster demanded.

 

“I can explain everything,” said Benvolio earnestly. “Tybalt, who lies here, killed Mercutio. Then Tybalt himself was killed by Romeo. Tybalt and Mercutio began the duel. Romeo tried to stop the fight; he tried to stand between them, but Tybalt cast a curse under Romeo’s arm, turning good Mercutio into a mouse. Poor Mercutio was then snatched up by an owl and killed. Mad with anger, Romeo then killed the killer – he cast the curse that took the vile Tybalt’s life. I had no chance to part them before the damage was done.

 

“He’s a liar!” screamed Capulet. “He’s a Gryffindor, we can’t trust him! My best friend is dead, and this guy’s best friend is the murderer! Romeo must die!”

 

“We will not impose the death penalty at this stage,” reasoned the Headmaster. “Mercutio is dead. Who shall pay the price for his murder? Tybalt, if found guilty, would have been executed anyway. Romeo did nothing that the law itself would not have done on a later date. Therefore, Romeo shall not be executed, but he will most certainly be expelled.”

 

There were nods of agreement from some of the staff and students. The majority of the Slytherins believed that this was not nearly harsh enough a punishment. However, if you looked closely enough, you would see that one Slytherin girl was bawling her eyes out, not for Tybalt as you might expect, but for Romeo himself.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Whilst all this was going on, Romeo had been hiding in Lawrence’s cabin, regretting his earlier actions immensely. He was, however, roused from his self-pity for a moment when there came a rapping at the window. It was Balthasar, Romeo’s grumpy old barn owl. Seeing that he owl bore a letter written in Juliet’s handwriting, he leapt to his feet and pulled open the widow, letting the bird in. Romeo untied the scroll from the owl’s foot. As he unrolled it, a beautiful wedding ring rolled out. The ring was set with both rubies and diamonds; red and green. The colours of

Gryffindor and Slytherin merged seamlessly together in that one piece of jewellery; a symbol of the peace between the houses that they wished would come. The letter itself read:

_Dear Romeo._

_I was shocked today to hear that you murdered Tybalt. What were you thinking!? I suppose you are lucky, having escaped the death penalty or even a sentence in Azkaban. The Headmaster has, however, expelled you, effective tomorrow. Romeo, I beg you – sneak into my dormitory tonight so we can spend one last night together before you leave. Attached to this letter is your wedding ring, a symbol of our everlasting love._

_Love always, Juliet_

_xxxx_

 

Romeo didn’t know how to feel. Juliet had become his whole life – to him, expulsion was as bad as, if not worse than, death itself. His life outside the castle walls no longer meant anything, because inside those walls was where his heart’s true love resided. When Lawrence returned, Romeo showed him the letter and told him of his misery. Lawrence told him to be grateful that, unlike Tybalt and Mercutio, at least he got to live. Romeo, however, refused to be comforted.

 

“I have nothing left,” sobbed Romeo. “I have destroyed the reputation of my name! I’ll cut that wretched name from my body!” Romeo picked up a knife from the table, and held it pointing towards his heart. In one swift movement, Lawrence snatched the knife off the young wizard and grabbed Romeo by the shirt collar.

 

“Don’t you dare,” growled Lawrence. “I will not let you kill yourself just to escape punishment. You’re a better man, a stronger man than that! Keep in mind that your Juliet still lives, and if you were to die she would never forgive you, or forgive herself. Instead, I have a plan to get you two back together and out of harm’s way. Go and see her tonight, to say goodbye, but be sure to have your bags packed and be out of the school grounds by midnight. Make a life in the town of Hogsmeade until I can one day convince the Headmaster to accept you back, and you and Juliet can live happily ever after.”

 

“Oh thank you Lawrence!” said Romeo gratefully as he exited the groundskeeper’s cabin as he made his way back to Gryffindor Tower to pack his trunk for the last time.

 

* * *

 

“So,” nagged Paris as he and Capulet sat in the library that evening working on a Potions essay. “Are you still going to hook me up with that charming little sister of yours?”

 

“Yes, I suppose I will eventually,” replied Capulet, “But I think you should take into account that there were two murders in the school yesterday, so Juliet’s love life hasn’t exactly been the top priority on anyone’s mind.”

 

“She’s so upset – I think that a date with yours truly could be just what she needs to get her smiling again,” Paris suggested.

 

“Yeah, okay.” said Capulet thoughtfully. “I’ll tell her tonight that she’ll be going to the school dance with you in three days. I’m sure she’ll agree – she’s so scared of me that she’ll do anything I say!” As he said this last part, he laughed a harsh and cruel laugh. Capulet was not exactly a kind brother, after all. He threatened his sister constantly, and she had become so afraid of him that she would submit to any request he made. Their parents knew nothing of all of this, as Capulet had promised Juliet that he would cast an irreversible spell to turn her hair bright pink if ever she told. Therefore, Juliet lived her life in fear of this tyrant of a sibling, always made to bear her suffering in silence.

 

* * *

 

As the first light of dawn began to shine through the green silk curtains in Juliet’s dormitory, Romeo awoke with a fearful start. He sat up slowly on the bed, trying not to wake the sleeping Juliet. 

 

“Don’t go,” she mumbled, half-asleep, as Romeo untangled himself from the emerald-green sheets, “It’s not morning yet.”

 

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” said Romeo, planting a soft kiss on his wife’s forehead. “But it is morning, and I have to leave now before somebody finds me.”

 

Juliet yawned. “Please, stay,” she said sleepily, reaching her hand across the bed and placing it on Romeo’s so as to stop him from leaving her side. 

 

Romeo had a sudden change of heart. “Oh, to hell with being found!” he said dismissively. No sooner had he lay back down then there came a rapping at the door, loud enough and startling enough to make him sit up with a jolt - misbalancing, however, and falling heavily to the floor.

 

“Who is it?” said Juliet, rubbing her eyes and yawning again.

 

“It’s me, Angelica. Your cousin!” yelled a somewhat urgent voice from the other side of the green wooden door that separated Juliet’s room from those of the other third-year Slytherin girls. Juliet leaped hastily out of bed, pulling the dazed Romeo to his feet as she did so. She let her cousin in before quickly pulling the door closed and locking it.

 

“You’d better get him out of here fast,” Angelica said in a low voice, pointing to Romeo, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room wearing nothing but his underwear. “Your brother’s on his way up here!” Both Romeo’s and Juliet’s faces turned to looks of dread. Romeo rushed to pull his clothes back on, then grabbed his broomstick from underneath the bed and gave Juliet one last passionate kiss. 

 

“Do you think we’ll ever see each other again?” asked Juliet worriedly.

 

“I don’t doubt it,” said Romeo lightly. “Just give the Headmaster a bit of time to cool off, and I’ll be back in Hogwarts before you can say Chocolate Frog.” Romeo straddled his broom, then dived out the bedroom window and flew off to his hotel room in Hogsmeade.

 

He was just in time, too. Less than a second after Juliet closed the window, there came another hard knock at the door. Juliet wiped the tears from her eyes and regained her composure as Angelica unbolted the door and opened it to reveal Capulet’s tall, broad figure standing oppressively in the doorway.

 

“My darling sister,” he said, strutting into the room and throwing himself down gracefully onto the bed.  “I have a proposal for you. I couldn’t help but notice how sad you’ve been lately. In fact, I can even see the remains of tears on your face right now. So, I took some big-brotherly initiative and arranged something that might just wipe that frown off your pretty little face. In three days time, you will be attending the Annual Hogwarts School Dance with none other than Paris of Ravenclaw, one of the smartest and most prestigious lads in all the school. So, what do you say? Are you excited?”

 

Juliet stood, shaking with anger, and moved so she was facing her brother straight on. She looked him directly in the eye, with a look of defiance unlike any look she had ever given him before. “I am not going to that dance with that boy. I don’t care what you say to convince me, what outrageous charms you threaten to perform on me if I don’t comply. I’m not your bloody house-elf. Your years of running my life are over! You hear that? Over! I am not dating Paris, and never will in my entire life!” she snarled. “Even if I was going to that stupid dance, let it be known that I would go with Romeo, who killed poor Tybalt, before I would even consider going with Paris!” Capulet was quite taken aback at this considerably aggressive behaviour from his usually submissive sister.

 

“You will go to the dance with Paris!” yelled Capulet, absolutely fuming with rage. “Forget rumours, forget hexes, forget rewards if you obey. If you don’t go with Paris to the dance, I will use everything in my power to make sure you go the same way as that mudblood Romeo! I will personally see to it that you are expelled, and never allowed back within these walls to the day you die! How does that sound!?” Capulet turned to leave. “Be warned, you little toad,” he sneered before slamming the door behind him and leaving Juliet and Angelica speechless with shock.

 

“What am I going to do?” asked Juliet, distraught. “We both know that if I go to the dance with Paris, I’ll be cheating on Romeo. I don’t think I could live with that, so how am I going to avoid it?”

 

“My advice,” said Angelica calmly, “is that you do what your brother asks. It’s a difficult situation to escape from, and I think that if Capulet was to become your enemy, he would become a very dangerous one indeed. I think that, if you want a future at this school, it would be best for you to forget Romeo and for you and Paris to become a couple. It was an outrageous idea for you and Romeo to get married in the first place! I mean, you’re thirteen and he’s sixteen. You’re too young to choose just one person without – how will I put this – shopping around first. People just don’t get married at that age! What do you think this is, some Shakespearean play or something?”

 

“Just because you’ve never been in love, just because you’re too fat and too ugly to have ever had anyone fall for you, doesn’t mean that you can deny me that pleasure!” screamed Juliet, her voice cracking and her face wet with tears. “You’re a useless confidant if ever there was one! I’m going to see Lawrence. He, unlike you, might actually care about helping me!” She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her so loudly that the sound echoed around all of the Slytherin dormitories. That lonely old cow just doesn’t get it, Juliet thought bitterly to herself as she stomped up the stairs to the ground floor of the castle. If Lawrence can’t help me, I’ll kill myself before dancing with Paris. If Romeo can’t have my love, nobody can.

 


	6. Chapter 6

As Juliet made her way down to Lawrence’s house, she was annoyed to see that somebody else was already there talking to him. Whoever it was, they looked somehow familiar, so she strained her eyes to try and see who it was. She let out a noise of disbelief, realising that the figure standing down there in the vegetable patch with Lawrence was none other than Paris himself!

 

Feeling cheated, Juliet strutted sulkily down to where Lawrence and Paris were talking. Seeing her, Paris gave a friendly wave.

 

“Hello there Juliet,” he said in a friendly tone. “I can’t wait for the dance on Thursday, can you?”

 

“I can’t think of another man residing in this castle whom I’d rather go with,” Juliet replied unemotionally. Paris said goodbye and gave Juliet a gentlemanly kiss on the hand before making his way back up the hill to the castle. As soon as he was through the doors and out of sight, Juliet wiped her hand aggressively on her cloak. 

 

“How dare he,” she fumed. “How dare he think he can just kiss me like that before we’ve even had one date!? He’s far too forthright for my taste.”

 

“Relax,” said Lawrence coolly. “Believe me; you could do a lot worse than him.” 

 

“Are you kidding me? I’d rather die than go to that wretched dance with him.” Juliet snapped back angrily. “I’d rather jump from the highest tower of the castle. I’d rather fight a hungry dragon. I’d rather lie in the grave with a dead body. All these things, all these unimaginable horrors, I would do all of them before I would dance with Paris and betray Romeo. I’m begging you. Find me a way to avoid this torture.”

 

“Alright,” said Lawrence warily. “I have a plan. Once you leave here, you go and tell Capulet that you will go with Paris after all. Then, on the night before the wedding, just before you go to sleep, take this.” Lawrence pulled a small bottle of bright purple liquid from his coat-pocket and handed it to Juliet. “This potion,” he explained, “will put you into a sleep so deep that it will look like you’re dead.” Juliet looked shocked. “Don’t worry,” Lawrence reassured her, “it only lasts twenty-four hours. By which time you will have been discovered, mourned and waiting in Hogsmeade Church for your funeral. I’ll send an owl to Romeo telling him about this plan, so he can break into the church and be with you when you wake up. Then the two of you can go off to London or somewhere and live a happy life together.”

 

Extremely grateful, Juliet thanked Lawrence for his help, standing on her toes to hug him. “Thank you.” she whispered in his ear before running up to the castle for breakfast.

 

“I’ve reconsidered,” Juliet declared as she sat down next to Capulet at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, loading her breakfast plate with waffles as she did so. 

 

“Reconsidered?” asked Capulet confusedly, “Reconsidered what?”

 

“I will go to the dance with Paris on Thursday after all,” she explained. “And I’m sorry for lashing out at you. I won’t ever disobey you again.”

 

“Good,” smiled Capulet. “But there’s just one issue with your agreement.” He pointed to a flyer which had been taped haphazardly to the wall behind her. The flyer, one of hundreds which had been put up around the school overnight, stated that the date of the dance had been changed to Wednesday, tomorrow, to avoid a clash with the fifth-year OWL exams. Juliet would have to take the potion tonight. She hoped feverishly that Romeo would get Lawrence’s owl in time.

 

The rest of the day passed uneventfully: The worst thing that happened to Juliet in the next twelve hours was learning that she had failed her Charms exam. Not that it really mattered, though. After today she would never have to study Charms or any other school subject ever again. 

 

Lying awake in bed that night, Juliet looked at her clock. It was now midnight, the time she had promised herself she would take Lawrence’s potion. She hoped it would work; that Lawrence had not just tricked her to make her feel better, or that he had mistakenly provided her with a deadly poison instead.  The first possibility worried her more. Just as a precaution, she placed her wand in her pocket, in case a situation arose where she needed to use it to end her own life. With trembling hands, Juliet uncorked the bottle bearing the sleeping draught. She raised it above her head in a toast. “To Romeo,” she whispered, before downing the mixture in one swig and collapsing onto the bed once more.

 

* * *

 

“Juliet!” echoed Angelica’s singsong voice as she came knocking on the door the next morning. “Wake up! The dance is today!” Annoyed with the lack of a reply, she knocked harder. “Juliet, you lazy pig! Get up!” When she still received no answer, she went to find Capulet, who she knew possessed a spare key to Juliet’s room. She returned, and opened the door to see Juliet sprawled across the bed, still in her clothes. Angelica walked warily over to give her a slap on the cheek to rouse her, but stopped short when she realised that Juliet’s face, and the rest of her for that matter, was stone cold. It was at this moment that Angelica also registered the fact that Juliet was not breathing. 

 

“She’s dead!” Angelica yelled hysterically, loud enough for all of Slytherin House (and anyone else who happened to be in the dungeons that morning) to hear. “She’s dead! Juliet is dead!” The alarm was raised and within fifteen minutes the entire Hogwarts staff, including Lawrence, had congregated in Juliet’s room. Paris was there also, distraught at the fact that Juliet was dead before the two of them could even spend one night together.

 

“Don’t be too sad,” said Lawrence, attempting to calm the hysterical Capulet, Paris and Angelica. “She’s in a better place now. However, her parents will be notified and the funeral will be tomorrow in Hogsmeade.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

On that same Wednesday morning, Romeo was sitting in his Hogsmeade hotel room eating sweets when Balthasar the owl came hurtling through the window and hit Romeo right in the face. Startled and in a bit of pain, he pulled the uncoordinated bird off himself and removed the letter which was attached to its foot. At first his heart fluttered with the thought that it might be a letter from Lawrence regarding his return to Hogwarts. However, Romeo’s face turned pale as he read the letter, which was in fact from Juliet’s cousin Angelica. The letter, speckled with what were possibly tears and scrawled hastily with a shaking hand, explained that Juliet had been found dead in her room this morning, and that the funeral would be tomorrow in the Hogsmeade Church. Romeo had to read the letter four times before he could take it in completely. Juliet, dead? How could it be possible? Juliet, whom only yesterday was alive and well? He still couldn’t believe it. 

 

However, when he saw Juliet’s body being brought through the town to the church later that day, he finally accepted that Angelica’s letter was the truth. Deciding that without Juliet his life was no longer worth living; Romeo paid a visit that afternoon to the town’s apothecary. He demanded the strongest poison that the apothecary had in stock. 

 

When night had fallen and the town was deserted, Romeo scrawled an explanatory note and put it in his pocket. He then pocketed the poison also before stealing out of his room and through the dimly lit streets to the church where Juliet’s lifeless body was being kept. “Juliet,” he whispered to himself, “I will lie with you tonight.” He performed an unlocking spell on the church doors and slipped in, closing them softly behind him. His footsteps echoed around the cavernous hall as he walked solemnly up to the platform where Juliet lay unmoving in her coffin. He raised the poison vial as if in a toast. “To our love,” he said defiantly before drinking the potion and collapsing lifelessly on top of Juliet in a final embrace.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, before the town woke up, John Lawrence made his way down to Hogsmeade Church to comfort Juliet as she woke up. Romeo was not, as Lawrence had promised, going to be there, as Lawrence’s owl had fallen ill and been unable to deliver the letter to him. Lawrence had decided that the best thing to do in this situation was to be there himself instead, and take Juliet into hiding somewhere else, sending an owl to Romeo at a later date to get him to join them there. Lawrence went to unlock the church doors, but saw that somebody else had done it already. Cautiously, Lawrence pushed the unlocked door open. Staring down the aisle, he could see a dark shape up on the platform. Lawrence walked quickly up the aisle to investigate, and cursed under his breath when he saw that it was Romeo slumped over Juliet’s coffin. As he stood there brooding, the potion wore off and Juliet began to stir. 

 

“Lawrence,” she said dazedly. “What are you doing here? Where’s Romeo?” She then registered that the uncomfortable weight on her stomach was Romeo himself. 

 

“Oh my God!” she gasped. “What happened? Is he dead? What…?”

 

“I’m sorry,” said Lawrence solemnly. “I am so, so sorry. It’s my fault. I never got an owl to him explaining that you weren’t really dead, so I came to collect you myself, and I found him here instead. I will leave you now; your funeral procession is coming. I’ll go and hold them up.” Lawrence turned and ran out of the church to meet the oncoming procession of students, staff and family.

 

“I can’t live without him,” said Juliet, trying to hold back a flood of tears. “Romeo, I will be by your side in death as I have been in our short life together.”  She kissed Romeo’s corpse before pulling out her wand and casting on herself the very same curse that Romeo had used on Tybalt only days before: the killing curse.

 

Moments later, the doors burst open with a bang, and the Headmaster strode through them, followed by the rest of the funeral-goers. 

 

“What has happened here?” the Headmaster demanded, seeing Romeo’s and Juliet’s bodies strewn across the platform at the front of the church. “Why is Romeo here? And why is Juliet, who died yesterday, newly dead today? Does anybody have an explanation for these tragic but confusing events?”

 

Lawrence raised his hand, and guiltily came forward to explain the whole story, and his part in it. The guests listened in amazement as Lawrence told how, despite the house feud, Romeo and Juliet had fallen in love so deeply that they forced him to marry them. He then told how, after Romeo’s expulsion, Juliet came to him begging for help, and how he gave her the potion so that she could feign her death. Finally he reached the conclusion, retelling how he himself didn’t get a message to Romeo in time, so he came here and killed himself to be with his true love, and how Juliet, upon waking, had done the same. 

 

After Lawrence had finished telling his story, the Headmaster took to the stage and began to scold Montague and Capulet.

 

“See what a scourge is laid upon your hate,” he said, “that fate finds means to kill your joys with love! And I for winking at your discords too, have lost a brace of students. All are punished.”

 

Capulet, his eyes still red from mourning his sister (who he seemed to have more respect for in death than in life), turned to Capulet and stuck out his hand in a gesture of friendship.

 

“Let us end this foolish feud,” he said with an air of finality. “I have lost a sister and you a brother. Let us fill what part of the void we can with the friendship of each other.”

 

Montague took Capulet’s hand and shook it. “I will ensure that both of their names go down in history,” he said, “They will be forever known as the star-crossed lovers who ended the generations-old feud between Gryffindor and Slytherin.”

 

“A glooming peace this morning with it brings,” said the Headmaster philosophically. “The sun for sorrow will not show his head. Go, and talk some more of these sad things. Some shall be pardoned, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”


End file.
